


Ginger and Cloves and Trust

by ewinofthelake



Series: Assassins in Winterfell [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arya is 18, Assassins In Love, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Faceless Arya, Finally, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Murder (mentioned), Neck Kissing, Sharing a Bed, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Valentine's Day, Winterfell, and to eat, because a girl is ready, because a man loves to bathe, no faceless fingers were (seriously) harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 00:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17777024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewinofthelake/pseuds/ewinofthelake
Summary: Blood is redRoses are blueDon't you dare interruptOr you'll be killed by those twoArya Stark of Winterfell is finally home.7x07 outtake & sequel to "Something Blue."





	Ginger and Cloves and Trust

**Author's Note:**

> My little series started with festivities, so I thought it appropriate to post this next part on Valentine's Day.
> 
> English is not my first language and I have no beta.  
> ASoIaF characters belong to George R. R. Martin.  
> Modern day Winterfell bath chamber photo credit to the owner.
> 
> And, [AryaxJaqen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaxJaqen/pseuds/AryaxJaqen): ginormous thank yous for sharing the series on [tumblr](https://aryafaceless.tumblr.com) <3

 

 

Winterfell was wider and whiter and even warmer than Jaqen had imagined from what Arya told him while they were crossing the Narrow Sea. The trip had been long but it was worth it.

He recalled fondly their stop at the Twins.

He recalled how he had watched mesmerised his glorious girl taking the lives of Fucker Frey and his entire offspring.

He recalled how he had pushed her into a dark alcove on their way out and fell to his knees and proceeded to eat her out despite her protests.

_Jaqen, we're going to get caught, we must leave,_  but she was already moaning.

_I must do my best, then,_  his deep purr, as he raised a hand towards her mouth and laid a finger on her lips, _and you must be silent._

The memory stirred something inside him, and he decided he could very well indulge a bit while his industrious girl tended to her business.

 

 

He was currently soaking in the bath chambers underneath the Great Keep. Arya had told him she had _family matters to attend to,_  and suggested he could go and bathe meanwhile – an activity he had always loved, and particularly enjoyed since they got to Winterfell. The bath chambers were imposing, with their stone floors, and the large sunken tubs, and hot water in abundance.

Finally a girl was home, and a man had not much to do, if not training for the impending war, and warming her bed at night. Literally.

They hadn't moved much forward from their days on the ship, there was always something – or someone – interrupting them, and when finally they were left alone for the night, they were always so tired they just fell asleep in each other's arms.

He had just closed his eyes, relaxing himself and taking his own matters into his own hands, when the door in front of him burst open and he was on alert in an instant.

His treasured girl was standing in the doorway. The room was dimly lit with candles, but he noticed the light trail of blood staining her clothes all the same.

"Arya," water splashed everywhere as he stood abruptly from his seat in the tub. "What happened?"

"No," she raised a hand as she entered the bath chamber. "Sit." A command.

She turned to close and bolt the door.

Jaqen slowly sat back down into the hot water, resting his arms on the edge of the tub.

"Is that your blood?" She tossed her gloves and her sword belt on the floor and approached the tub, lazily unbuttoning her heavy coat. She kept silent. "Arya, answer me, please! Are you bleeding?"

She came to a halt. And smirked. "Not yet."

His cock twitched underwater as realisation hit him.

With a knowing look, her gaze dropped to his crotch. When she met his eyes again, she was biting her lower lip.

He had become such a fan of her lips – all six of them.

"The smell in here is delicious," Arya graciously pulled off her boots, and proceeded to slide her leather pants down her legs. "Ginger and cloves. It's my favourite, you know?" Her smallclothes followed. "Because of you."

Entranced by her voice, Jaqen watched her in silence. The only thing left covering her snowy skin was a thin undershirt. _Definitely not bleeding. Anywhere. Yet._  It fell to the floor right before she leisurely stepped into the steaming water, one lovely foot at a time.

"Did I interrupt something before?" She said casually as she approached him, dipping her hands into the water. "When you stood up, I couldn't help but notice that your lower parts were quite... _bulging._ "

He smirked. "I was just recalling."

"And what, pray tell, were you recalling?" She was standing right in front of him now. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she slowly sank down into the water, kneeling between his legs.

"I was recalling the alcove at the Twins where a most wicked girl in the throes of passion almost bit my finger off." He grinned as he held said finger in front of her face.

"Oh, I would _never._ " She showed her appreciation for the small appendage by noisily sucking on it. "I love these skilful extremities of yours too much," she cooed as she leaned into him, splaying her hands on his shoulders and running them all the way to his fingers. "Which reminds me, why are they still over here?"

"Ah, a terrible distraction on my part," he murmured in mock regret, as he began to fondle every inch of her skin that he could reach.

"Is a girl distracting?"

"Are we playing this game again?"

"We never stop playing," she whispered before her mouth closed hungrily over his.

Jaqen had decided to abandon the Lorathi speech pattern when he realised he belonged to his lovely girl, but referring to themselves as 'a man' and 'a girl' had become a peculiarity of their alone time. He had explained in detail the old cult of the Blind God to Arya, and she remarked that such habits of speech were somehow a way to distance the mind from the body, something she found insanely erotic – it was like watching themselves from the outside while they were pleasuring each other.

"The blood..." She pulled away suddenly. "Littlefinger is dead."

His faraway gaze lingered on her swollen lips. "Finally the little bird is gone."

"Jaqen! He was the _mockingbird!_  The _little bird_  is my sister!" She would never forget the interminable night Sansa had spent chirping about the nickname the Hound gave her in King's Landing.

"A man must ask forgiveness," he bowed his head slightly, as his hands continued to run restlessly along her skin. "And a girl must turn around."

She did as he demanded, and positioned herself with her back against his chest, not before lowering her gaze to his mouth one last time. _Later, beautiful lips._

She, too, had become a big fan of his lips – so delectable, fleshy, and so, _so_  pink.

She rested her head on his shoulder and continued. "I was thinking about you as I killed him."

"A man is most honoured. But perhaps he should not be," he muttered as he trailed his hands down her shoulders to her neck and collarbone.

"It's because I used your dagger, silly man." His hands slid lower, grazing the top of her breasts.

" _That_  is beautiful news." His _beautiful lips_  descended on her neck. "A girl should get more gifts." For now, she got a nibble.

She started to run her hands along his thighs. "It's perfect." Another nibble on the other side of her neck. "The dagger, you know. I never thanked you for that." This earned her a loving kiss on her cheek.

"How is it that a girl came to be close enough to a mockingbird to kill him?" He was massaging her breasts now. And as he finished his question, his lips began to suckle on her neck.

She moaned her answer. "Sansa..."

Jaqen lifted his mouth from her skin. "A girl is most confused. This man is Jaqen H'ghar."

"Oh, let me finish!" She not so lovingly elbowed him in the ribs. "I had been planning this with Sansa for a while. It's..." One of his hands had moved down to her belly and was dangerously approaching her mound.

"It's...?"

"It's..." Arya's voice was just a whisper, "...amazing," she finished, as he was tracing his _skilful extremities_  down her slit.

"Killing always is, my vicious girl."

"No!" She almost yelled. But his fingers were now circling her clit, and her loud protest turned into a whisper again. " _You_  are amazing." She felt him smile against her skin. "Aargh, you're distracting me!"

"Do not mind a man and go on with your story," he purred into her ear as he continued to play with her.

"But it's quite a long story, and a girl believes this is not the–"

"But a man plans to keep his girl busy for quite a long while," Arya's head tilted back, "a man wants to kiss and nibble every inch of her body," she angled her face towards his and licked her lips, "and if anyone interrupts again..."

She smirked. "A girl still has the dagger with her."

He plunged his tongue into her mouth, and Arya was about to turn back around, but Jaqen held her firmly against his chest as one of his fingers finally entered her.

"Jaqen," she gasped against his lips, "a girl is ready."

"A girl's mind may be ready, but her _lower parts_  are not." He continued to gently stroke her.

"My lower parts have wanted yours for _moons._ " A second finger joined his first.

"A man has said," he breathed, as his mouth attacked her neck again, "...your list," his lips ravaged her wet skin, "...moon tea," her throaty moans filled the air, "...Winterfell."

He lowered his other hand between her thighs and reached for her clit. Then he put his lips to her ear.

"A man has wanted you _all along._ "

And it was true.

At first, he wanted to shield her from the horrors of Harrenhal. Then he wanted to train her so she could take the revenge she deserved. Then one day he simply wanted. Wanted _her._  She was not a little girl anymore, he had seen the zest, the fervour, the strength in her since the beginning, and he couldn't help but crave the alluring and deadly woman she was becoming. _You made me brave again,_  she once told him. She made him _someone,_  the man he never was.

"Gods!" Arya was whimpering, her hips furiously chasing after his hands.

"Forgetful girl, it is still only Jaqen."

"Oh, shut... up!" She tried to yell again, but her shriek turned into a shudder when his fingers bumped against the precious spot inside her.

"No. A man thinks that _a girl_  will _shut up_  now." His hot breath was close behind her ear.

She felt her inner muscles begin to tighten, and she heard his voice whispering a command.

"Come."

Her walls clenched so hard she almost forced his fingers out.

Her breath stopped, her heart pounded, her hands flew to the back of his neck, clutching at his skin.

Dizzy.

_Intimacy._

Desperate.

_Trust._

He kissed her hair softly.

"Now a girl is ready."

Now a girl just wanted to snuggle up and fall asleep in his arms, but his voice awakened her desire for him again.

His erection pressing against her lower back did something to her too.

He helped her to turn around and straddle his thighs, and her hands came to rest on his shoulders. He gently took them in his, kissed them, one by one, and guided them to his cock.

"Arya." His big blue eyes were fixed on hers, heavy-lidded and gleaming. _Spellbound._

Neither of them ever expected any word of affection from the other, much less demanded it; most of the times, no words were even needed at all. They spoke with their bodies, their actions, and right now with their eyes.

He lifted his hands to cup her lovely face, and her lips met his. It was a slow, soft, tender kiss this time, and they got lost into each other as Arya gently stroked his length against her slit.

"Jaqen," she broke the kiss to breath his name.

He smiled. It was a warm, heartfelt smile. "Take your time, impatient girl."

But this was Arya, his fierce, stubborn wolf.

_Always more courage than sense._

A blink of an eye, and she guided the head of his cock inside her.

His big blue eyes were wide with wonder now, and his hands went to her hips, his fingers digging into the softness of her skin. "Arya..."

A gasp escaped her mouth as she sank deeper and felt his hands tremble before he clenched her hips tighter.

She gripped his shoulders and rolled her hips tentatively, before sinking down as far as she could.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let the sensations wash over her. She squeezed her muscles around him as though to convince herself that he was really there, really inside her. "Jaqen, you're really..." She exhaled a happy sigh. "We're really doing this."

"Yes, lovely girl." His voice was tinged with a need he couldn't hide.

He kissed her again, ever so slowly, his tongue caressing hers as she lifted her body then sank down again, her breasts deliciously brushing his chest.

She groaned against his lips at the sensations, and clasped her hands behind his neck.

As his hands held her hips, she rocked back and forth and let him guide her movements, _let him possess all of me._

When the two finally got to Winterfell, Sansa was truly happy to see her little sister again. A little less happy to see her with a stranger in tow, an assassin no less. And she wrinkled her nose when word was spread that the two shared Arya's bed almost every night, although the assassin had been assigned a chamber of his own. But Sansa soon realised that her judgement was wrong. The chemistry, the invisible bond between them, the knowing smiles they shared. Life was hard while getting ready for a war, but she could see a spark in her sister's eyes, a happiness she had never seen before, and it was all _because of him._

Arya was his, and she wasn't afraid to admit it.

She was breathing heavily now, clinging to him, as the water sloshed over the edge of the tub from their movements.

"Jaqen, I need–" He captured her mouth in a scorching kiss and pressed his fingers against her clit as he rocked his hips deliberately, letting her feel every inch. His feel. His taste. And, _oh,_  his scent. _It's too much._  Her head jerked back. "Too much!"

She was writhing against his fingers, writhing against his cock, until–

"It's... too... much!"

He bit into the soft skin of her neck before he sucked it into his mouth as she came, loudly, arching her body as she grabbed his waist, keeping him deep inside her.

He was her slave.

He pushed up into her once, twice, before she felt a warm sensation inside her, filling her, completing her.

She fell against him, exhausted, breathless, her face buried against his neck and her arms holding him tight.

He remained inside her, his heart beating wildly, and softly stroked her damp hair, then down her back. Arya shivered. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his chest.

After long moments she lifted her head, sluggishly, a hazy, drunken smile on her lips.

The candles were almost extinguished, but her smile grew so big and bright it could light up the room.

"Jaqen," she cupped his jawline and kissed him – she couldn't stop kissing him and, _Seven hells,_  she couldn't stop doing many other things now, she realised.

What he had realised, instead, were the goosebumps rising along her exposed skin. "Arya," he tried to speak against her lips, "we will freeze to death if we stay here much longer."

"Oh, you overdramatic, cold-sensitive Essosi!" He drew back abruptly as she tried to bite his chin.

At the sudden movement, his softening cock slipped out of her, and she gasped in surprise as blissful aftershocks rippled through her. She closed her eyes and savoured the moment, as he tilted his head so that his temple came to rest against her collarbone.

His voice was a mere whisper.

"How are you feeling?"

"Perfect, Jaqen, I..." She sighed with contentment. "I feel perfect." She gently grabbed his cheek and tilted his head up until their eyes met. "You know I wanted this, right? I wanted you. I _want_  you. Always."

He smiled – a smile full of reverence, adoration, ...love?

"Although..." She pouted. "You didn't kiss and nibble _every_  inch of my body."

His smile faded, and his mouth opened and closed in disbelief. "More than half of your body is covered by water!"

She splashed him with said water in response.

"And," he grabbed her wrists and stilled her naughty hands, "I will have my impertinent girl know, I had made some scrumptious plans for today, before you had your ornithology matters interfering." He stole a quick kiss from her luscious lips. "Plans which involve a warmer, _drier_  location, and more, many more kisses and nibbles." His voice had turned into a purred promise. "Plans which we could still put into action. If a girl desires."

"Plans, uh?" Detecting her curiosity (and desire), he seized the opportunity and rose from the now lukewarm water, bringing her with him out of the tub.

"Plans, eager girl, yes."

She reluctantly unwrapped her legs from around his waist, and slid down his body until her feet touched the floor. Swiftly, he dried her and then dried himself off, and when they were more or less decently dressed, he took her by the hand and rushed them to his bed chamber.

Jaqen opened the door and blocked her way as he explained. "I am aware that my frosty girl is not interested in what most girls are, but..."

He moved aside and let Arya in, and she finally saw what his mysterious _plans_  were about.

His bed was covered in blue winter rose petals, their scent so sweet in her nostrils and intensifying as she got closer; and around the bed, dozens of candles ready to be lit were lined up on the floor forming a perfect heart shape.

She threw him an unreadable look, then went back to the door.

"Arya?"

She closed and locked it with a smug smile on her face. _Déjà vu._

As she returned to him, her hand went to the dagger in her belt.

Jaqen tensed. Just a little.

In one swift movement, she loosened the belt and let it fall to the floor together with its deadly contents.

"You were right." Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she took his hands and laced her fingers with his. "It seems I'm going to need _lots_  of moon tea after all."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are better than watching Littlefinger's death in slow motion :)
> 
> I admit the heart-shaped thing is quite OOC for Jaqen. And Arya will probably whip him bloody once her sex haze dissipates and she realises how cheesy it is XD


End file.
